Bare Necessities
by ckmono
Summary: PreKingdom Hearts 2 XIII Order story, on the subject of the obligatory angst as a XIII Order member and a Nobody. Warning: Axel and Roxas SHOUNEN AI.


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**Warning: Spoilers concerning who Roxas is.**

_Disclaimer:_ Kingdom Hearts and all its sequels and merchandise belong to Nomura Tetsuya and Square-Enix. Thanks to them for brining such a wonderful game and fandom to us.

Author's Notes: This story takes place PRE-KINGDOM HEARTS II in terms of the XIII Order's 'timeline', which I consider to be starting from the moment Sora stabs himself with the Keyblade and Roxas is born. The world in which the story takes place is up to the reader's decision. Other than that, please enjoy.

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**Bare Necessities**

Axel glanced at the casual clothing of the newcomer, and then stared straight ahead down the white corridor. One of his hands pinched his chin, contemplating how to break the news to the poor kid. Then again, it was apparently—from what Xenmas told him—the kid's own decision to join. So maybe the boy knows.

"So kid." Axel started nonchalantly, "What's your name?"

"Where are you taking me?"

"That your name then?"

The boy glared at him. "I asked you, where are you taking me?"

"Pushy, aren't we? I _am_ your superior, you know."

"Do I have to fight you for the answer?" The icy answer made Axel chuckle.

"Relax, kid, you're way too tense. You're a member now, I won't hurt you." Axel grinned in a slightly unpleasant way, "Most of the time. You stay out of my way, I stay out of yours."

The boy remained looking at him expectantly.

"I'm going to show your uniform, alright?" Axel sighed, exasperated. The pair arrived at one of the many spare rooms of the headquarters. Inside, Axel rummaged in the closet, complaining under his breath about the impossibility of a uniform the boy's size. Much to his surprise though, he found several child-sized uniforms, and wondered if Xenmas was finally getting too desperate.

"Here." Axel pulled out an overcoat, pants, a pair of gloves, and a pair of black runners. He stood up with those in his arms, turning to the boy. After looking at each other for a second, Axel spoke, "Take those things off." He enjoyed the mortified shock that spread over the boy's face.

"I can dress myself, you know." The boy said, looking strangely at Axel.

"Of course you can. Why the hell would I want to dress you?" Axel laughed, "Now take those things on you off. All you'll need is this." He tossed the overcoat lightly in his hand, and threw it to Roxas. The pants, gloves, and runners followed.

"What about cold weather then? Or changes of clothing?"

"Saix can get someone to get some copies of your uniform. As for funky weather, it doesn't matter."

The boy looked at him questioningly. Axel stared back, his green eyes locking with the boy's cerulean ones, ready to observe the change.

"Look, kid." Axel ran one of his hands through his hair, "You're a 'Nobody'. We all are—the Order, I mean. You're a body and a soul that some heart threw away. You're _half dead_. People say we're _non-existent_, as in _not supposed to exist_. It's kind of like not feeling anything, so all you need clothing for is covering up."

Axel watched in grim, unsmiling satisfaction as the boy's face went from shock to guarded, judging the truth in Axel's words. Then, it fell slowly a deep, brooding thoughtfulness and a dash of denial.

Axel got out of the room as the boy changed. When the boy came out, he turned his head to stare at Axel.

"Thanks." He said quietly, "For explaining to me."

"Just doing my job." Axel replied lightly, "You aren't too bad yourself. Some people freak out and start getting all depressed and weepy."

The pair proceeded back down the corridor from which they came. After a few moments of silence, the boy looked up at him, "Hey—what's your name?"

"Axel. Got it?" Axel tapped his index finger playfully against the side of his head.

The boy nodded, "Axel." He repeated, "My name is Roxas."

"About time. Welcome to the Order, number thirteen." Axel grinned at the boy and the latter smiled back faintly, tentatively.

The sharpness of the boy's eyes became duller.

---

_Roxas—no, that brat._

_That **fucking** brat._

Axel stared, dumbfounded, at Demyx's horrified expression, which, in this case, might not be so exaggerated after all. He slapped himself full in the face, and snarled in rising anger.

"_Please_ tell me it's not true." He turned, staring out the inn room's window at the blizzard.

"He knocked me out while I wasn't looking to keep me from starting a scene with him. Boss says we have to be discreet in other worlds, remember?" Demyx sighed, one of his long hands resting on his aqua-blue sitar. "He asked me not to tell you, actually." Demyx held up a curt note. "But I think you should know."

"Damn right I should." Axel muttered under his breath, striding towards his travel bag and pulling out his spare overcoat.

"Axel, help him." Demyx said, the whine in his voice suddenly gone, leaving a smooth, deep tone.

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?" Axel headed towards the door.

"I mean it." Demyx's voice stopped him, "_Help_ him. He doesn't _get it_ yet. I can see it; it's killing him from inside out."

Axel snorted, "You and your compassion." Demyx grinned brightly at him as he closed the door. Quickly, Axel made his way out of the inn and the town, almost vaporizing the snow in front of him with his fire.

From the window, Demyx sighed, his brow crinkling with gentle exasperation at the astonished looks of the few townspeople still on the streets. _So much for being discreet_.

---

"I take back what I said on the first day." Axel glared incredulously at the brat—_Roxas_—sitting in the snow, under a tree in the forest near the town. "You _suck_. _No one_ pulls this sort of shit, _what the hell were you thinking_?"

"Go away." Axel barely heard Roxas' reply over the wind. He stood there for one moment more, pondering the incredible _stupidity_ of the situation, then pushed his feet over the knee-high snow towards Roxas. He was tempted to vaporize the snow, but he wasn't sure if he could control the flames in his state of mind.

"Get up, brat." Axel knelt down, and brushed the piling snow away from Roxas' head, resting atop his knees, and his arms, crossed over his knees. Then, Axel was suddenly face to face with the full extent of what he spontaneously dubbed 'Roxasangstitis'.

"Are you fucking _nuts_?" Axel snarled with quiet intensity at Roxas—_no, the nutcase_—shaking his _bare_ upper body. The boy didn't respond, and Axel grabbed his head with both hands, forcing them up to meet him, "Where is your overcoat?"

Roxas' eyes were soft. Dim.

"Roxas." Axel shook him a little, "Get up; I know you can hear me—get up!" He pulled on Roxas' forearms, but the boy stubbornly rooted himself to the ground.

"I said, _go away_." Roxas muttered quietly. A small explosion of light, and the Keyblade materialized in his bluish-white hands.

Axel's mouth dropped open, appalled, and his bright green eyes narrowed. He slung the spare overcoat over his shoulders. Forcing Roxas off his seated position with a violent tug on his arms, the other fist flew, and Roxas fell towards one side. A hand reached up shakily, covering the forming bruise on the side of his face.

"You think you can _fight_ me in that condition?" Axel growled, brushing the remaining snow on Roxas' body away. Wrapping the boy in the spare overcoat, Axel forcefully picked him up in both arms. The Keyblade dropped from Roxas' weak grip onto the ground, vanishing.

"Let me _go_." Roxas raised a fisted hand, and dropped it heavily on Axel's face. It slid down, and rested between Axel's collarbones.

"Shut up." After making sure that Roxas' body was supported, Axel flicked his palm towards the forest path in front of him, melting the snow away with fire.

---

"So, mind telling us what that stunt was all about? Two months ago you thank me for explaining it to you, and now you go and tell me you _don't get it at all_."

Axel sat down on a nearby chair after laying Roxas down, stripped of his soggy clothing, in one of the three beds. Demyx, who had gone to ask for the thick blanket now covering Roxas' smaller form, was leaning against the wall at the head of the bed. He looked worriedly at Roxas' unresponsive face. The boy did not open his eyes, nor did he speak or move. He remained straight, in a corpse-like position, on his bed.

"Are you _seriously_ trying to prove if you could die if you are apparently defined as being non-existent? Or if you are alive in the first place?"

Roxas still didn't answer.

"Fine then, just keep quiet and listen." Axel continued curtly, "When I said you're _half-dead_, what I mean is you're _half-alive_. You're _still alive_. Got that? Now then, I told you that people say we're non-existent. Note the words, _people say_. Opinions. So it's a fact, but does it _really_ kill you to just _accept_ it because it's _part of who you are_? And when I said it's like you don't feel anything, I said it's _like_." Axel paused, and sighed quietly, "It hurt when I punched you, didn't it? And now it feels warm in the bed, doesn't it? Did you _really_ need to pull that stunt to prove that you exist?"

Roxas remained silent, and Axel continued, "Look, if you ask Demyx, he'd tell you the same thing that first day. We're all angst here, and we don't need anymore, so stop trying to kill yourself with it. The Order doesn't need people like that."

"Then why not just let me die? No one would be sad." Roxas finally murmured.

"I would be sad." Demyx's whine had returned, and Axel noticed that the histrionic waterworks were coming on in the musician's eyes.

"Great." Axel rolled his eyes, "Are you going to go all sappy on me too with the waterworks if I tell you I would be too? Because I would be."

A quiet chuckle broke from Roxas' throat. His blue eyes cracked open, and a lone tear slipped out, "Sorry to betray you, Axel."

Axel half-smirked, half-grinned gently, "Forget it." After a pause, he ran his bare hand through his crimson hair. "Hey. Sorry, about putting it out too harsh that first day."

Roxas smile sleepily, "It's alright. Somehow, I think it would hurt less than if I heard it that way later."

"Good that you know." Axel stood up abruptly, and stretched a little. He turned away towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Demyx asked, wiping away the tears in his eyes.

"Getting an ice packfor that work of art I made." Axel replied, and Roxas snorted softly.

---

As Axel's footsteps faded away down the staircase near their room, Demyx chuckled. "I'm not sure which work of art he's getting the ice packs for, come to think of it." Demyx turned his grin to Roxas, and surprised him with a similar bruise on one side of his face.

"What—?"

"For not being more watchful and subsequently not stopping you." Demyx touched the bruise gently, bemused.

"I'm sorry I knocked you out."

"Don't worry about it. You needed to clear off some of that steam you're holding inside you." Demyx grinned at Roxas, and then turned his eyes towards the door again, "Axel's just worried, that's all. He loves you, you know."

A small blush appeared on the boy's face. "Does he even know—what love is?"

"No, but all he needs is to feel it." Demyx gestured poetically, "After all, love is different for everyone, which makes it all the more wonderful, don't you think?" The bruise on the side of Demyx's face took away some of the overall dramatic effect, but Roxas nevertheless smiled, to his relief.

"I suppose he hasn't told you; sorry I ruined the surprise." Demyx held out his hands in a pacifying way, "I swear I didn't worm it out of him though. As Axel likes to put it, apparently I can pick up stuff like this like gummi-ship radar. He thinks it has something to do with how I like music. Cool, huh?" Demyx grinned childishly, and Roxas snorted, amused.

"Yeah. Cool."

"You're not freaked out by it, are you? Axel's feelings?" Demyx asked suddenly, almost in afterthought.

Roxas shook his head faintly, "No. Not at all."

Demyx stared at him for a moment, "You love him too?"

"…Yeah." Roxas answered quietly. He grinned gently at Demyx, "You _are_ gummi-ship radar."

"I must be." Demyx sighed blissfully. He turned his eyes towards the door, "Wonder what's taking Axel so long? I'm going to take a look."

---

_Listen up Axel. Look normal. Put hand to doorknob. Twist and—oh. Crap._

"How long have you been standing here?" Demyx looked like his birthday—which he didn't remember, but declared it to be the day he was born as a Nobody—just arrived early.

"Not long." Axel pushed past Demyx into the room, his eyes on the ice pack in his hand.

"Right. Not long."

"Demyx, get out." Axel ordered. He turned, and Demyx's face was suddenly inches away from his, his eyes watering dramatically.

"Are you kicking me out?" He whimpered. Axel smirked widely.

"Oh, eager, aren't we?" Demyx backed away, a sly look on his face.

"You want me to punch you again?"

"Please do." Demyx bowed his head in gentlemanly in a perfect imitation of Luxord.

"How about if I mess up that mullet you're so proud of?"

Demyx looked traumatized, and behind him, Axel heard Roxas chuckle. It made him smile a little wider, a little smugger.

"That was low." Demyx muttered, shuffling out of the room, "You know how much effort I go through for this mullet?"

"Don't know, happier not knowing." Axel caught Demyx's grin as he closed the door, and grinned back.

Axel returned to his chair by Roxas' bed, and silently pressed the ice pack against the bruised side of Roxas' face. Roxas winced a little.

"Sorry." Axel said quietly. "Nothing's bleeding inside, is it?"

"Before probably. It's okay now." Roxas replied. "Axel?"

"What?"

"Good night." Roxas sighed, pushing his head into the large pillow. Axel snorted, and Roxas's mouth twitched in a smirk.

"Love you too, you nutcase." Taking the ice pack away, Axel dropped it on the floor. He leaned forward, hands on the bed, and pressed his lips against Roxas'. After rubbing against them for a few moments, Axel felt him respond, closing his cerulean eyes.

When Axel pulled away, Roxas' eyes were closed in sleep; he turned unconsciously towards Axel.

The wood in the fireplace crackled, and the flames grew a little higher.

---

"Excuse me miss, I'm afraid I'll have to take the lobby couch tonight as a bed. You wouldn't mind, would you?" Demyx asked with a trademark lady-killer smile.

"Well, the rules…" The maid trailed of hesitatingly. Demyx looped an arm loosely about her shoulders.

"Ah, don't worry about them. You can tell your boss that it was my fault." Demyx winked and squeezed the maid's shoulders gently, dealing the final blow.

"Well…alright then, I'm sure the boss won't mind." The maid acquiesced good-naturedly.

"Now that's what I call good service." Demyx praised, and the maid giggled, "You wouldn't happen to have a spare blanket, a pillow, a lamp, some paper, something hard to write on—like a piece of board or something—and a pen, would you? They're all I need."

"Yes, we do. I'll bring them to you right away." The maid immediately answered, and scurried off to find the list of items. By the time Demyx reached the couch, she was back. After thanking her profusely, until she very nearly swooned at his feet, he bid the maid goodnight and kissed the back of her hand. The maid blushed, and left the room, but did not forget to look back before she left. Just as Demyx expected.

By the time Demyx made himself comfortable with the blanket and the pillow, the paper on the board propped up against his knees, the pen in his hand, the maid had dropped from his mind as if she had never existed. She floated over the sea of Demyx's mind like foam; looks nice, easily caught, but otherwise uninteresting with nothing deeper underneath.

Like a second nature, his hands traced several lines of musical staffs on the paper. By the comforting light of the warm fire in the lamp, he grinned and began to write.

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Author's Notes:

Luxord struck me as someone whose behavior and speech would be like a 'charming gentleman', sort of like a host at a party.


End file.
